


Chimera

by TheShitCook



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Accents, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sleepy Boys, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex, Wet Dream, top!Daryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 03:59:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14417208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShitCook/pseuds/TheShitCook
Summary: In the apocalypse, one feels lucky to make it through the night without a nightmare, let alone dreaming of anything pleasant. So, when Daryl wakes up to find Paul dreaming of very pleasant things next to him, he decides to take advantage of the rare opportunity.





	Chimera

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this forever ago, but it's one of my favourite PWP's in my Desus arsenal. I prettied it up a little bit, so here you go! Enjoy! <3

     Daryl rouses from his sleep lazily, eyes blinking open slowly to take in the still dark room around him. It’s before sunrise, he can tell that much. Maybe, three or four in the morning. He stretches his arms over his head in a rather cat-like manner, lacing his fingers together and popping the knuckles. He clears his throat quietly and brings one of his hands back down to scratch at the underside of his chin, other hand dropping to his side. He runs his fingers through his hair sleepily and scratches at his scalp. He turns to look at the smaller form still sleeping next to him, curled up and tangled in the sheets.

Jesus looks somewhat restless, twisting back and forth occasionally, shoulders shifting. His back is facing Daryl, hair tied up in a messy bun that’s practically fallen apart during the night. Daryl runs his hand over the top of his head soothingly. He looks so beautiful like this. He never thought he’d use that word for another man, or anything in general. He’s thought it of Beth, and Judith. Michonne and Carol. Maggie. Nearly all the women he’s met and become close to since the beginning of the end, he’s thought of as such. Never the same way he thinks of Paul. Laid out in bed with him, chest rising and sinking slowly with each breath. His pale skin looking indescribably soft and every curve of his body showing through the thin sheets.

“Mmn…” Jesus mutters in his sleep and Daryl can’t exactly tell if it’s a good dream or a bad dream yet. He leans forward so he can listen better. His breathing is a bit shallow, but still even. If he leans over top of him, he can see his eyebrows scrunched together and eyes squinted shut, as if in deep thought or concentration. He’s seen that same look in his face when he’s meditating, which he doesn’t do all that often anymore.

Jesus grumbles again and it sounds a bit higher pitch. Drawn out and needy. Daryl smirks and leans down to press a gentle kiss to his temple. Jesus sighs and Daryl kisses him again. Down the side of his head, and then just below his ear. Daryl places one of his hands on Paul’s hip, covered by the sheet and his boxers.

He massages at Paul’s hip, fingers gently digging into the covered flesh as the smaller man leans in to the touch instinctively. Daryl scrapes his teeth down Paul’s throat and he whimpers. It’s short and quiet, but Daryl feels his libido swell at the sound. He’s never been the kind of guy to go round after round in bed. He could count on one hand the number of times he’s had sex before he met Jesus and still have some fingers left. But the younger man did things to him. Made him feel like a fourteen-year-old boy finding a skin mag for the first time. Especially when he was laying nearly naked next to him, whimpering his way through an obviously dirty dream.

“Daryl…” Jesus groans and that does it. Daryl presses the full of his torso against Paul’s back, one arm wrapping underneath the scout’s neck and his hand pressing against his chest. He pushes down the sheets with his other hand to give himself better access to Paul’s shifting form. Jesus leans back into him and Daryl starts to gnaw at his neck, coaxing him awake slowly. Paul’s jaw drops open minutely and Daryl moves his lips down it, trying to avoid getting too much beard scruff in his mouth, but knowing just how much Jesus loves it when he pays attention to him in that spot. Daryl rolls his hips forward gently and Paul’s eyes flutter open.

“Fu-uck…” He moans and Daryl smirks against his flesh, moving down to suck a mark just next to his adam’s apple. “S’one way ta wake up.” Paul’s voice is still slurred with sleep and Daryl finds it adorable as he pulls at the band of his boxers. He snaps it and Jesus snorts, pressing his ass back against Daryl’s hardening cock.

“You were dreamin’ ‘bout me.” Daryl whispers, husky and sweet.

“Always dreamin’ about you baby.” Jesus teases and reaches a hand back to tangle in Daryl’s hair, holding him close. Daryl groans and his grip on Paul’s hip tightens.

“What was I doin’?” Daryl murmurs as he presses his swollen cock into the curve of Paul’s ass. The hand on Paul's hip travels back to knead at his rear and Paul grunts.

“Was makin’ love to me.” Jesus sighs and Daryl grinds against him, silently imploring him for more. “We were still here… world was still shit, but-” Jesus gasps and Daryl starts to pull the younger man’s boxers down his thighs, working it over his now hard cock to expose him to the slightly muggy, night air.

“But it didn’t matter… you told me you loved me, that you didn’t want anybody else… ah!” Jesus moans when Daryl wraps one of his hands around his shaft, pumping him slowly until precum seeps from the head.

“Tha’s what ya dream about?” Daryl can’t say that he’s surprised, the younger man’s always been the sappier of the two in the relationship, at least in his opinion. His heart speeds up a little bit at the knowledge though. Paul’s good dreams don’t just involve Daryl, but Daryl loving him. Not railing him against the wall, or the two of them living some perfect life before the dead started walking around. He’s happy to dream about the here and now, about Daryl loving him as he is. Daryl bites at his lower lip and swallows, hands slowing where they’re touching Jesus.

“You okay baby…?” Jesus asks, immediately sensing the change in Daryl’s demeanor. Daryl nods and wraps his arms around Jesus in a hug that he hopes conveys all the emotion that’s currently choking him. He nuzzles at the back of his neck and Jesus smiles fondly. “Was that too much?” Jesus sounds a little worried, like he’s overstepped.

“Nah… do love ya.” Daryl kisses his nape and the hand Jesus currently has tangled in his hair massages his scalp lovingly.

“Well, yeah, I mean, who wouldn’t?” Jesus teases, and Daryl knows he’s overcompensating again. He tends to do that when he’s doubting himself, which is often. Probably the deep-rooted sense of self hatred that comes with being thrown into the foster system and never making it out until adulthood. Daryl’s been trying to work on that with him, show him how truly amazing not only he, but the whole community thinks that he is. Knows him to be. Daryl’s about to say as much, in maybe a few less words, when Jesus speaks again.

“I mean, I’m completely adorable.” Daryl snorts at that and cuddles in closer to him. “Especially when I do my British accent, the one that you reaallly like.” Jesus drawls into said put-on accent half way through and Daryl groans, grinding his still present erection against his rear. Jesus moans as he feels the size of him and reaches his other hand back to tug at Daryl’s snug boxers. “C’mon love, take ‘em off?” Jesus goads, accent still present.

“Ya lookin’ fer me ta make love ta ya or fuck ya, cause ya know what’s gonna happen when ya do that voice…” Daryl warns, shuffling his boxers off and pressing his now bare cock against the crack of Paul’s ass. He continues grinding and Jesus whimpers, rolling his hips back into the touch. Jesus reaches forward and picks the bottle of lube off the side table, used as recently as last night. He taps Daryl on the shoulder with it and the hunter takes it from him, popping it open and immediately pressing his fingers against Paul’s rim.

“Whatever you decide, jus’ get inside me.” Jesus insists and Daryl groans, sinking two of his fingers in to the knuckle. They fucked already last night, but Jesus topped, so he’s going to have to start from square one in stretching him. Not that he minds, but he probably shouldn’t have started with two fingers. Especially considering his are thicker than Paul’s. The younger man doesn’t seem to mind though, thrusting back onto his hand and groaning. He pumps them slowly, other hand moving some of the hairs from his forehead. Jesus shivers in his hold and Daryl drags his tongue down the side of his throat, breath hot over his skin and fingers pressing deep.

He slows down after the initial thrust of his fingers into his lover, peppering kisses over his collarbone and shoulder blades. Daryl loves how sensitive Paul can be. He’s probably spent days working over the younger man’s body to pinpoint every inch of him that quivers under gentle or rough contact. His back is particularly sensitive. Paul loves it when Daryl drags his nails down the centre of it, but on his shoulder blades and lower back, he prefers gentle touches. Daryl puts this knowledge into practice by tracing the tip of his tongue over Paul’s nape. The younger man shivers violently and tries to choke back the whimper that tears through his throat, but Daryl still smirks victoriously.

“Daryl… please.” Paul hasn’t dropped the accent yet and Daryl’s cock throbs painfully every time he speaks. He starts to rut up against him as he adds a third finger, stretching and curling them until he finds Paul’s prostate. Jesus keens and the false accent drops for a moment. He picks it back up and Daryl’s practically drooling after every word. “Fuck I could come on your fingers alone. You always fuck me so good… can’t wait for your cock- Ah!” Daryl drives his fingers in particularly hard, mainly to shut him up.

“Keep talkin’ an’ I’m gonna finish before we can start.” Daryl snarls and Paul turns his head so he can kiss him. He groans as Daryl tongues into his mouth, hot and wet and so goddamn intoxicating that his head’s spinning. Jesus moans and sucks on his tongue, tugging harder at Daryl’s hair for support and spreading his thighs so that Daryl has better access. Said thighs are shaking and his toes are curling as Daryl teases a forth finger, then pulls out fully. He presses the blunt, thick head of his cock against Paul’s rim, pushing in slowly until it sinks inside.

“Ohh GOD…!” Paul practically screams and Daryl growls, teeth digging into Paul’s lower lip. He pulls back when he tastes blood.

“Shit, sorry.” He mutters, eyes flickering down to the spotting of blood on his lower lip. There’s deep teeth marks and Daryl plans on being sorry for longer but Paul’s eyes are fluttering and he’s panting as he inches Daryl’s cock further inside of him. His lips are parted and cheeks flushed, he doesn’t look the least bit discomforted as he licks the wound. Daryl chokes on his own saliva at the sight. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to how much Jesus turns him on. Just when he thinks he’s learned all there is to know about Paul Rovia, there’s something new. Something that arouses him down to his bone marrow and makes his brain fog.

“Fuck…” He groans, taking one more look at his ravaged form before leaning down to gnaw at his mouth again. Jesus moans like a damn porn star and Daryl grabs his hip again, pulling himself flush with the younger man’s ass and burying himself to the hilt. He’s warm and soft, tight and so perfectly willing. His body is pliant in Daryl’s hands and his mouth is eager. Daryl tries to still, tries to give Jesus time to adjust to his apparently rather impressive size. But Jesus is already a step ahead of him. Daryl’s prepared him more thoroughly than he thought because he’s already rocking back and motioning for the older man to start thrusting.

“Please, baby please- fuck me already!” Jesus begs into his mouth and Daryl groans, low and gravely. He falls into a steady rhythm, hard and fast, just like he knows Paul would ask for it if he weren’t so distracted by the throbbing in his lip and the hand working over his torso. Daryl fills him to the brim with every inward thrust, near knocking the breath from his lungs. Jesus writhes and thrusts back onto his cock, clenching around him and wrapping one of his legs back and over Daryl to guide him. Daryl snarls and laps at his mouth and teeth, making the flesh around his lips slick and shiny. “Fuck, you’re so big…” Jesus moans in his pleasured haze.

“Ya take me so good sunshine…” Daryl encourages, and Jesus gives his sleep-mussed hair another tug. “Feels so good bein’ inside ya.” He slows his pace a bit as he speaks so that he can focus on pressing deeper, make his strokes longer. Jesus pants desperately and motions for Daryl to kiss him again, which he does enthusiastically. Daryl groans when he feels the familiar heat of arousal coil tight in his lower belly. He suddenly feels too hot as his body races towards completion, holding onto Jesus like a lifeline. The younger man full-body twitches and Daryl knows he’s just as close.

“C’mon baby, let go.” Daryl wraps one of his hands around the base of Paul’s dick and strokes him until he’s gasping Daryl’s name as he comes. His cock pulses in Daryl’s hold as he paints his stomach and the warm liquid dribbles down Daryl’s fist. He tightens around Daryl’s cock and Daryl groans desperately as he digs his teeth into Paul’s shoulder. His thrusts become sporadic as finally comes inside of his lover, filling him with hot, white ropes of come. Jesus swallows as Daryl fills him so completely. Daryl whispers Paul’s name, low and raunchy, just underneath his ear as he comes down from his high, sucking a dark hickey into the warm flesh.

“Fuck…” Jesus groans and Daryl pulls out slowly. He moves down Paul’s body and laps at his stomach and side, peppering open-mouthed kisses along his sweat-slick skin. Jesus giggles and Daryl nips at his hip, tongue lashing out after. Daryl’s still a little fuzzy as he wraps his arms around Paul’s midsection, nuzzling just below his chest. The sun still hasn’t come up yet, so he lets himself fall back asleep wrapped around his lover, heart full and limbs tired.

He dreams of things too sappy to think about when he wakes. Long, chestnut hair tied up in a knot, wide blue-green eyes staring up at him, whispered “I love you’s”, and slow kisses.


End file.
